Heath's Luck
by Leiaaa
Summary: Lucky he is not: Heath's musings at the end of Tempted. Contains a massive spoiler, a fishing pole aaaand irony! Don't read unless you've read all of Tempted.


**A/N: I didn't write the House of Night series. Don't sue me. **

**Don't read this if you haven't read ALL of book 6 from the HON series, Tempted because this story contains a HUGE SPOILER! HUGE!!! MONUMENTALLY HUGE!!! You've been warned.  
**

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_Ziiiiing-plop._

The young man liked that noise, found it comforting. So he did it again...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...And again...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...And again.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

Over and over he repeated the motions and the outcome was always the same--_Ziiiing-plop_--action and reaction, working in perfect harmony.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

He didn't even care if he caught anything because, really, that's not why he was out there. He was casting his line because it was familiar. And he marveled that his this life- _No! Afterlife_, he reminded himself, still unused to his new life... _er, afterlife_, he corrected again, frustrated, losing his train of thought. Cursing out loud he cast the line.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

And then quickly berated himself for cursing in Heaven. Or he guessed it was Heaven. What had he been told when he first arrived? He was in the Other Life? The Other Side? The Other World? _ That's it! The Other World_, he remembered, finally. But it seemed like Heaven to him, or at least fit his life-long idea of what Heaven must be like: perfect.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

_Or... almost perfect_, he admitted to himself. Meaning this Other World wasn't Heaven, at least not as far as he was concerned. Because if he were in Heaven...

Refusing to finish the thought, the young man cursed himself (silently, just in case) for even starting to think it. In an attempt to divert his train of thought the young man cast his line...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...again...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...and again...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...and one more time for good measure...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

But the thought was still there, waiting for him to acknowledge it, to complete it.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

He tried not to think...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...and failed--which he found somewhat ironic seeing as he never had a difficult time clearing his mind while he was alive. Why, now that he was dead, could he _not_ not think? And how did he suddenly know what the word ironic even meant? It's not like he was a complete dumbass before, but he had taken way too many hits to the head on the football field, lost a lot of braincells during his brief stint as an alcoholic and never was a straight-A student, so, while he was alive, he didn't know what irony was. Which he recognized was also ironic. Or was it?

_Maybe I'm not magically smart,_ he thought.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

_Alright, if I can't _not_ think, I just won't think of Zoey_, the young man resolved.

_"DAMN!" _He yelled when he realized his resolve to not think of Zoey_ made him_ think of Zoey. Then, again realizing he was cursing in a place that may or may not be Heaven, he dropped his pole on the pier and slapped his hands over his mouth, waiting for a bolt of lightning to smite him.

But nothing happened. So he picked up his pole and returned to casting his line.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

The young man laughed nervously and cursed again, quietly, but still out loud... and again, nothing happened_._ Testing the waters, one last time, he yelled a string of his favorite curse words but nothing smote him.

"This isn't Heaven. I knew this wasn't Heaven." He said, reassuring himself.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

_Because if this were Heaven I could never get away with dropping the eff-bomb and... __Zoey would__ be with me, _he finally allowed the morbid thought to complete itself, hating himself all the while. Only a person that didn't deserve to be in Heaven would think such a thing, he was sure. And anyway, he didn't want his Zoey to be dead--she had important work to do! All the same, his selfish side couldn't help but wish she was with him.

What he wanted--all he ever wanted: Zoey by his side, loving him.

_Apparently we were never meant to be._

_Ziiiiing-plop._

He knew he'd never ever stop loving her...

_Ziiiiing-plop._

...Never stop missing her.

_Ziiiiing-plop._

_Maybe this Other World, as "perfect" as it seems, is my own personal hell._ _Now _that's_ ironic!, _he thought, a very large yet very bitter grin spread across his face.

_Ziiiiing-plop. SNAP! _

_

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**A/N: A few things: 1). In case you didn't put two and two together, that ****SNAP! was the twig breaking under Zoey's foot at the end of ****_Tempted_. And 2). I have a thing for Heath (I don't get it either. He's like a big dumb puppy, and I can't help but LOVE him. A lot. Okay, I'm _in love_ with him. _Don't judge_), which brings me to 3). I'm really mad at P.C. Cast and Kristin Cast. Like, ****_REALLY_ mad, in fact, I'm no longer on speaking terms with them (not that I ever was on speaking terms with either of them. But still...) because 4). They killed off one of my favorite characters! And I know that 5). Unlike Stevie Rae, Heath is never coming back to life!!! So now I'm left asking 6). _Why???_ Why did they kill him off??? 7). Why not Erik? Because seriously, 8). Erik_ needs_ to be killed off!!! 9). This is my first House Of Night Fanfiction--please review and 10). Thanks for reading!  
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